Chapter Four - (5)
As soon as we stepped inside, Suet-foong was held spellbound by the lobby's glitzy chandeliers and polished marble floors. It was a classy sight for my wealth-challenged girlfriend. I had to drag her to the reception desk where an elderly chubby man with a cheery-looking face greeted us. "Good morning, sir and ma'am. Welcome to Traveler's Palace. My name's Old Lai. I am the manager here. How can I be of service to you two?"
"A twin-bedded room preferably with a bath and stabling for our horses, if you please," I replied, filling out the registration form.
"That would be six dollars per night, sir."
"Fine, we will take it."
Old Lai nodded and rang the hand bell. But no one came. He rang again. Still, there was not a soul in sight. "Ah Tong! Ah Tong!" he finally shouted. "Where are you, you tone-deaf slowpoke?"
"Coming, boss, coming!" responded a thin young lad who came rushing out of seemingly nowhere. Upon seeing Suet-foong and me, he stopped short and gave us a shy smile.
"There are a couple of horses that need to be stabled," said Old Lai in a commanding voice. "Find a place for them. Move it on the double!"
Ah Tong shot off faster than a speeding bullet.
Turning his attention back to us, the manager said, "Sorry about that, sir. Ah Tong can be a bit inattentive at times, but he is a good worker. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, your room; we've got one with a bath in the south wing on the first floor that would suit you both just fine. Please follow me."
He led us to a passage and along the way we bypassed a restaurant-cum-bar. I took a quick peek inside and saw a big gathering of mostly men, many of them drinking, laughing, and singing a merry song. Suet-foong and I stopped for a moment or two listening to the many joyful voices joining in the chorus before catching up with Old Lai.
Finally we reached our room. Old Lai opened the door, switched on the lights, and passed me the room key. It was spacious and clean. There were two big beds, a cupboard, and a round table with a couple of wooden chairs. The bathroom was at the back. "I hope you will find your stay here comfortable," he said. "Would you like a drink or some food perhaps?"
"Yes, we'd like to have our dinner in the room if it is possible," I replied. "I don't fancy the crowd in your restaurant. What's in the menu?"
"That can be arranged, no problem at all. As for the menu, we are having stewed pork, fried chicken, and steamed fish tonight."
"Sounds good; we'd like to place an order for all of them, and a pot of your best wine. Please make it quick. We are famished!"
"Thank you, sir," the manager said with a smile. "Ah Tong will bring the food and wine to you in no time at all. Now if you would excuse me, I must be moving along. It's a tough job running here and there and I'm not getting any younger. Unfortunately, I can't do much about it. There is no one else to man the desk and the kitchen. We are terribly short of staff here at the moment. But don't you worry about a thing; I can assure you that our services are still topnotch. Have a pleasant evening."
Off he went, leaving us rather impressed with him. Despite up to his neck in his work, he was quite chatty and full of hospitality.
After the appetizing meal, I sat by the window sipping my cup of wine and getting ready to go through the complimentary paper; I did not have the chance to read the news before I left the house this morning. Suet-foong was having a shower. The waxing moon was slowly climbing above the hill; a thick smoky mist came drifting before my eyes, blurring the trees and the houses. It was a cold night.
When I saw the front-page headline, my jaws dropped a good three inches. It screamed "SONG JIAO-REN'S KILLER CAUGHT!" in big bold letters. According to the report, the killer was an ex-soldier named Shek-yau who held a grudge against Song. I frowned; there was not an ounce of truth in it. This poor guy was made a scapegoat for the police's failure to nab the real assassin: yours truly. On the other hand I felt quite relieved; it meant I was no more on the radar of Song's people.
To be continued ...
Turning his attention back to us, the manager said, "Sorry about that, sir. Ah Tong can be a bit inattentive at times, but he is a good worker. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, your room; we've got one with a bath in the south wing on the first floor that would suit you both just fine. Please follow me."
He led us to a passage and along the way we bypassed a restaurant-cum-bar. I took a quick peek inside and saw a big gathering of mostly men, many of them drinking, laughing, and singing a merry song. Suet-foong and I stopped for a moment or two listening to the many joyful voices joining in the chorus before catching up with Old Lai.
Finally we reached our room. Old Lai opened the door, switched on the lights, and passed me the room key. It was spacious and clean. There were two big beds, a cupboard, and a round table with a couple of wooden chairs. The bathroom was at the back. "I hope you will find your stay here comfortable," he said. "Would you like a drink or some food perhaps?"
"Yes, we'd like to have our dinner in the room if it is possible," I replied. "I don't fancy the crowd in your restaurant. What's in the menu?"
"That can be arranged, no problem at all. As for the menu, we are having stewed pork, fried chicken, and steamed fish tonight."
"Sounds good; we'd like to place an order for all of them, and a pot of your best wine. Please make it quick. We are famished!"
"Thank you, sir," the manager said with a smile. "Ah Tong will bring the food and wine to you in no time at all. Now if you would excuse me, I must be moving along. It's a tough job running here and there and I'm not getting any younger. Unfortunately, I can't do much about it. There is no one else to man the desk and the kitchen. We are terribly short of staff here at the moment. But don't you worry about a thing; I can assure you that our services are still topnotch. Have a pleasant evening."
Off he went, leaving us rather impressed with him. Despite up to his neck in his work, he was quite chatty and full of hospitality.
After the appetizing meal, I sat by the window sipping my cup of wine and getting ready to go through the complimentary paper; I did not have the chance to read the news before I left the house this morning. Suet-foong was having a shower. The waxing moon was slowly climbing above the hill; a thick smoky mist came drifting before my eyes, blurring the trees and the houses. It was a cold night.
When I saw the front-page headline, my jaws dropped a good three inches. It screamed "SONG JIAO-REN'S KILLER CAUGHT!" in big bold letters. According to the report, the killer was an ex-soldier named Shek-yau who held a grudge against Song. I frowned; there was not an ounce of truth in it. This poor guy was made a scapegoat for the police's failure to nab the real assassin: yours truly. On the other hand I felt quite relieved; it meant I was no more on the radar of Song's people.
To be continued ...
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